Mugged On Memory Lane
by GMTH
Summary: Josh gets more than he bargained for when Drake decides to reminisce. Drake/Josh slash, one-shot. Written for Yuletide 2008. Thanks to Amanuensis for the quick beta.


As soon as Josh heard the opening guitar riff of "Heartless Miracle," he picked up his beer and took a long swallow.

Drake didn't notice. He was too busy smiling at the waitress, then tossing a few bills on her tray as she picked up the empties and put a fresh bottle down in front of him. She gave him a coy wink in return and walked away with an exaggerated hip wiggle that had Drake turning in his seat to watch, his smile sharpening into a leer. Josh ducked his head and grinned to himself, picking at the label on his beer bottle. Some things never changed.

"So anyway," Drake said after the waitress disappeared into the crowd, "next thing I know the elevator doors are closing, and the guy in the bow tie is screaming, 'Get it off me! Get it off me!' and waving his arms in the air while the lady with the poodle in her purse starts to sneeze, right? And then --"

Colin pushed his chair back and leaned away from Drake, his mouth stretching into a huge yawn. "Uh, Drake?" Josh said, cutting his eyes from Drake's face to his roommate's bored expression and back again. Colin didn't like Drake much, Josh knew, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Colin had agreed to invite Drake out with them that night because it was Josh's birthday, but they'd only had a couple of beers apiece and Josh could tell Colin's patience was already wearing thin.

Drake didn't seem to hear him -- or, more likely, thought Josh, he was being ignored. " -- the lights go out," Drake continued, laughing. He palmed a handful of popcorn from the overflowing bowl in the middle of the table and popped a few kernels in his mouth. "Oh man, I have never heard such amazing cursing in my _life_."

"Drake," Josh said more insistently, tapping the neck of Drake's beer bottle with the neck of his own.

Drake stopped talking and glanced sharply at Josh, chewing the popcorn with this mouth open. "What?" he said, shaking the popcorn in his fist a few times before shoving the rest in his mouth. "I'm in the middle of a story here, man."

"Yeah, I know, it's just..." Josh's voice trailed off as his mind raced. "It's just so noisy in here," he said finally, raising his voice until it was far louder than necessary to be heard over the crowd. "We don't want to miss any of your great story."

Drake blinked. "Okay, whatever," he said, grabbing some more popcorn. "Remind me later and I'll tell you the rest."

Josh tipped the beer bottle to his lips and looked at his stepbrother surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. Drake was tapping his fingertips against the table top in time with the music. Josh grinned against the mouth of the bottle. Any second now... and... five, four, three, two, one...

Drake closed his eyes and jabbed one finger in the air as the song reached its climax. "Right there!" he said, slapping his palm against the table. "F _sharp_, dammit, not F."

Josh shook his head and put his empty bottle back down on the table. "Dude, every time."

"What?" Drake said, looking up with a frown.

"Every time we hear this song, you say that."

"I do not," Drake said indignantly.

"You do, too!"

"Not _every_ time."

"Yes, _every_ time. Every single time we've heard it together for the past seven years."

"Bullshit," Drake said, tipping his chair backwards on its two back legs.

Josh laughed. "I'm totally serious."

"Yeah, well." Drake's expression was a cross between amusement and embarrassment. "It was a big thing for me, man. That was a huge night for me, and I fucked that part up."

Colin leaned his elbows on the table and looked from one to the other of them, his brow knotted in confusion. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Oh, sorry," Josh said, a tiny thrill of excitement bubbling up in his chest at having Colin's attention again. "See, a few years ago, I was backstage at a Zero Gravity concert and met Devon Malone."

"Yeah. Met," Drake snorted.

Josh shot a glare in Drake's direction before turning back to Colin. "Anyway, long story short, I messed up his -- I mean, his hand got messed up and he couldn't play, so Drake --"

"So I ended up playing for him," Drake cut in, smiling hugely. "It was _awesome_. Fourteen thousand people in the crowd that night. It was the most --"

"Oh," Colin said quietly, sitting back in his chair again. Drake's mouth snapped shut, and he and Josh exchanged glances as Colin picked up his beer and glanced over his shoulder at the crowd on the dance floor. Josh felt as though a door had slammed shut between them.

"What?" he said, tearing the last strip of label off his bottle.

"Nothing."

"No, come on," Josh said with a nervous chuckle. "You -- you don't believe us?"

"Not really," Colin said, eyes focused on a spot well over Josh's head.

Drake brought the front of his chair down with a bang. "You think that's a lie?"

"I think it's total bullshit, man," Colin replied with a derisive bark of laughter that made Josh's eyelid twitch. Colin tipped his beer against lips twisted into a sneer and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Josh shifted in his seat and tried not to stare; a moment later he gave that up for impossible and settled for trying to look like he wasn't staring, at the very least.

"Why would I lie?" Drake said, pressing the fingertips of one hand to his chest, just above his heart.

"I don't know," Colin said. "To make yourself look good. Actors do it all the damn time. I see it at work every day."

"I'm not an actor."

"Actor, musician, same thing."

"It's not -- ah, fuck it." Drake picked up the sodden label Josh had discarded and tossed it in Colin's general direction. It landed on the table with a wet plop as Drake sat back in his chair, a muscle working in his jaw as he ground his teeth together.

Josh craned his neck until he caught sight of the waitress again. "Another round," he called, twirling his finger in a circle to include all three of them. She flashed him the "okay" sign and undulated off toward the bar. With an uneasy smile, he looked back and forth between Drake and Colin. Each was watching the dancers on the crowded dance floor as though they held the secrets to the universe.

"So, uh," Josh began hesitantly. "Uh, Colin, how's, uh, Linda doing?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could snatch them back. _Smooth, Nichols_, he thought with an inward cringe. _Remind him he's got a girlfriend. That won't hurt your chances at_ all.

"She's okay," Colin said with a noncommittal shrug. "She's starting her new --"

"You know, he's calling _you_ a liar, too," Drake cut in, giving Josh an angry look.

"Drake --"

"Look, dude," Drake said, turning toward Colin. "I am not a liar."

"Drake," Josh said again, this time with a note of reproach in his voice.

"Okay." Drake flapped one hand in Josh's direction. "I may lie sometimes, but I'm not a _liar_. And you know I'm telling the truth about the Zero Gravity thing, man."

"Yeah, I do --"

"Look, just let it go, all right?" Colin cut across Josh. "What do you care what I think anyway?"

"I don't," Drake retorted.

"Well, good!"

"Good!"

"Good!" the waitress echoed, stepping up to the table pelvis first. Three bottles of beer were balanced on her tray, thin wisps of smoke rising from the open necks. "Here you go, boys," she said, throwing a stack of cocktail napkins on the table. "Who's got these?" She put the bottles down in front of Drake and looked at him with a hopeful expression on her face, but for once the presence of an attractive female within arm's reach seemed not to have registered. Drake's head was turned in the opposite direction, as though he didn't want to take a chance on catching even a glimpse of Colin's flushed face out of the corner of his eye. Every few seconds a colored spotlight lit up the side of his face Josh could see, giving him an eerie, almost sinister look.

"I've got it," Josh said, pivoting on one hip so he could reach deep into his front pocket for some cash.

"No, man," Colin said, shoving his empty bottle toward the middle of the table. "I'll get it." He paid the waitress and picked up a fresh one, lips quirking into a smile. "Happy birthday, Nichols," he said, tilting the neck of his bottle toward Josh in a salute. "Hope it's been a good one."

Drake mumbled something under his breath but did not turn his head. Josh glanced at him quickly as he grabbed hold of his own bottle. "Thanks," he said, his tone overly bright as he turned towards Colin. "It's been great. Good music, good friends, good beer. What's not to love?"

Drake made a noise that sounded like a cross between a snake hissing and a cat coughing up a hairball. Colin's expression grew hard. "What's your problem?" he demanded, skewering Drake with a glare, and with a sinking heart Josh realized the detente that had sprung up between Colin and Drake for his sake was about to flare into open warfare.

"Nothing," Josh said quickly, sensing danger as the color rose in Drake's face. "He doesn't have a problem, do you, Drake." He paused for half a second to give Drake a chance to respond, then barreled on before Drake could open his mouth. "There, you see? No problem. None at all. Now, what were you saying?"

"I'll tell you what my problem is," Drake spat, and Josh sighed and slowly closed his eyes. _I should never have birthdays_, he thought, rubbing his forehead to ease the headache starting to build up behind it. _That's the_ real _problem_. "My problem is you're calling _this_ a birthday celebration for my brother Josh?" Drake scoffed. "I'll tell you about a _real_ birthday celebration."

Josh's eyes snapped open as Drake punched him in the arm, and he started and nearly fell off his chair. "Ow!"

"Josh," Drake said, ignoring Josh's scowl, "remember that time I got you the Oprah tickets?"

"Oh Drake, don't go there," Josh groaned, massaging feeling back into his arm. "Please don't go there."

"Why not?" Colin replied, his upper lip curling. "What, you're going to tell me you met Oprah now, too?"

"No, he didn't meet her," Drake said. He leaned forward and looked Colin straight in the eye. "But he did _hit her with his car_."

Colin pulled a face. "Oh, right. I'm sure."

"It's true," Drake replied, sounding unnecessarily smug. "He bounced her right off the windshield." He gestured dramatically with one hand to demonstrate the trajectory Oprah's body had taken as Josh leaned forward to bang his forehead on the table. "Laid her out flat. Now _that_ was a birthday, right, Josh?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Josh said, his voice muffled by the table top. "That was a birthday, all right."

"What do you think of that?" Drake said.

Josh lifted his head and swept his bangs out of his eyes. Colin was staring daggers at Drake across the table, and he looked so sexy Josh lost a breath. "I think you have a hell of an imagination," Colin said. "First you're filling in for Devon Malone at a major Zero Gravity concert, then you're supposedly killing Oprah Winfrey, who, I should mention before you embarrass yourself further, I happened to see on live TV just this --"

"I never said he _killed_ her," Drake cut in. "He just put her in the hospital."

"Oh, well _that's_ much more believable, then."

"Josh." Drake cuffed Josh across the shoulder with the back of his hand. "C'mon, man, jump in. Tell your little friend here I'm telling the truth."

Josh straightened up, his mouth working soundlessly like a fish about to bite on a hook. "Well, uh, you see..." He flailed one hand for a moment and then fell still, chewing on his lip.

"So? Is it true?" Colin demanded, even though Josh could tell from the look on his face Colin wouldn't believe him no matter what he said.

"Um. I kind of... I don't like to talk about it," Josh replied with an uncomfortable chuckle.

Colin snorted. "Oh, there's a surprise."

"Not as much of a surprise as the time _Diana Vosh_ came to our door," Drake said, now clearly enjoying himself way too much, as far as Josh was concerned.

Colin sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Diana Vosh. The supermodel."

"Yep, that's the one," Drake said.

"I see." Colin's voice dripped with sarcasm. "So, what, she just showed up at your door? Or no, wait, I suppose you nearly killed her, too?"

"No, nothing like that," Drake said airily. "She was lost and we helped her out. Remember that, Josh?"

Josh smiled at the memory. "She used my laptop."

"Yeah, and she kissed me," Drake replied with a knowing leer.

"Oh, I get it," Colin said suddenly, snapping his fingers. "This is some kind of weird game you guys play, right? One of you makes up these wild stories, and the other pretends like they're true?" He shook his head. "Okay, that's cool. C'mon, tell me another one. Did you ever rescue a fairy princess? Or wrestle an alligator? Maybe... swim the English Channel? No, no, I know, you helped the CIA bust an international spy ring, right?" With a sardonic grin, he took a swig of his beer.

"Of course not," Drake said. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Yeah," Josh chimed in. Colin's attitude was starting to get on his nerves. "We only ever helped the LAPD break up a ring of counterfeiters led by one of the FBI's ten most wanted."

Colin winced as though swallowing a handful of broken glass rather than a mouthful of Heineken. He studied them both for a moment, then pushed his bottle of beer away with such force a small wave of amber liquid splashed onto the battered table top. "That's it, I'm outta here."

"No, wait, don't --" Josh started, a pang of regret poking him in the stomach, but Drake waved him off and hurled a curt "See ya" in Colin's direction.

Colin pushed his chair back and stood up, one hand rooting around in his pocket. "I always thought you two were a little weird," he snarled, "with all the touching and hugging and shit. But this is fucked up even for you guys." He threw a few crumpled bills on the table. "I'll be at Linda's for the rest of the weekend," he told Josh. "When my dad calls, let him know."

Josh nodded glumly as Colin snatched his jacket off the back of his chair. Drake cupped his hands together around his mouth. "We jumped out of a helicopter just before it crashed once, too!" he called to Colin's retreating back. "Both of us, with only one parachute!" He dropped his hands and picked up his beer. "And good riddance," he added under his breath.

"Way to go, Drake." Josh traced his fingers through the puddle of beer Colin had left behind. "That's another of my birthdays you've managed to screw up."

The beer bottle, which was halfway to Drake's mouth, stopped short in mid-air. "What are you talking about?" Drake said, frowning.

Josh flicked his fingers in Drake's face. "Why'd you make him leave?"

"Ow! You got me in the eye!" Drake scrubbed at his eyelid with the heel of his hand. "You should be thanking me, man," he said, blinking painfully. "The guy's a huge dick."

"I like him."

"Yeah, well, you used to like ketchup on ice cream, too."

"I mean it, Drake. I _like_ him."

"Seriously?"

Drake was staring at him but Josh couldn't meet his eye. He settled for a wordless nod.

"God, Josh." Drake leaned forward and nudged Josh with his shoulder to get him to look up. "It was bad enough when you decided you were gay --"

"I thought you said you were cool with it when I came out."

"I was. I _am_. It's just..." Drake rubbed absently at the back of his neck. "First Mindy, and now this guy. I guess I just hoped you would have better taste in men than you did in girls."

Josh rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the smile he felt tugging at his lips. "Shut up."

"You shut up," Drake replied with an answering grin.

"No, _you_ shut up."

"C'mon, shut up and drink," Drake said, pushing Josh's beer into his hand. "It's not too late to make this your best birthday ever. Let's get drunk."

* * *

The back of the cab smelled like stale piss. Josh eased himself into the seat gingerly, wishing he'd thought to grab a toilet seat protector from the men's room before they left the club. God only knew what was crawling around back there, or how many people it had crawled from. Drake, on the other hand, flopped down on the seat as though it were as clean as his mattress, which, Josh thought blearily, might not be outside the realm of possibility.

"Where to?"

The driver's heavy accent made Drake giggle, and he mocked the man's odd pronunciation under his breath. This was so distracting it took three tries before Josh was able to give the right address; by the time he finally managed it, Drake was nearly howling. The driver pulled out into traffic, and he and Josh had a long conversation about politics, global warming, and the deplorable state of the California freeway system before Josh realized the driver was actually speaking to someone else on a Bluetooth headset. In Romanian.

"Josh?"

Josh started awake with a grunt. "Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?" Drake's voice sounded very close. Josh opened his eyes a fraction to see Drake's head resting next to his on the back of the seat. The headlights of a passing car hurt his eyes and he squeezed them shut again.

"Yeah."

"What's it like to be gay?"

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean, what's it like to like guys?"

"I dunno."

"C'mon, man. Tell me. What's it like to sleep with a guy?"

Josh shifted uneasily in his seat. He was pretty sure this conversation would have caused him to burst into flames if he were sober. "The same as it is to sleep with a girl, I guess."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Only there's more dick and less tit."

Drake laughed, a low, breathy sound right next to Josh's ear. "Did you ever?" he said softly.

"Did I ever what?" Josh replied, a nervous undercurrent in his voice. He turned his head slowly until his temple was brushing Drake's forehead.

"Did you ever fuck a guy?" The whisper of Drake's lips against his cheek made gooseflesh rise on the back of Josh's neck. "Huh? Did you ever fuck Colin?"

"Colin's straight."

"You didn't answer my question."

The gooseflesh crawled down Josh's back and he shivered, but the feeling wasn't unpleasant. On the contrary. He turned his head toward Drake a bit more. "What was the question again?"

Drake's breath was hot on his cheek now, heavy with the odor of beer. Josh could hear the soft rasp of Drake's stubble against his own. "Remember the time you kissed me?" Drake murmured, skimming his lips along Josh's jawline.

Josh swallowed hard. In the tiny, distant part of his brain that wasn't soaked in alcohol a klaxon started to shriek, but it was so far away and Drake's mouth was so close the warning was easy enough to ignore. "Which time?" he whispered back.

The goosebumps on the back of Josh's neck seemed to crackle with electricity as Drake's fingers slid slowly across them into Josh's hair. "All of them," Drake sighed against the corner of Josh's mouth, pulling his head forward to nip gently at his bottom lip. Josh turned blindly toward the warmth of Drake's lips, tasted the beer on Drake's tongue, and decided the answers to Drake's questions could wait until much, much later.

* * *

Drake was on him again almost before he got the door closed. They had walked up the stairs together in silence, shoulder to shoulder, leaning on each other more than was strictly necessary to prop one another up. It had been so quiet in the stairwell Josh could hear the quickening of Drake's breath over the echo of their footsteps, and he had wondered if Drake could hear the pounding of his heart in return. He'd frantically tried to think of something to say once they reached his apartment, but his brain was numb and his cock was hard and coherent thought seemed about as likely as Crazy Steve winning the Most Rational Person Of The Year award.

As it turned out, words weren't necessary. No sooner had Josh shot the deadbolt home than Drake pinned his back to the door, grabbed both sides of his head, and attacked his mouth with a brutal kiss. This was nothing like the gentle, almost feathery kisses and sensual licks they had shared in the cab. This time, Drake meant _business_. Josh froze, palms pressed flat to the door on either side of his body, knees and elbows locked, feeling for a moment the blind panic of being chased into Mrs. Hayfer's powder room by a Rottweiler with teeth like a set of butcher's knives. But then Drake canted his hips so Josh could feel the heat of Drake's trapped cock against his own, and the fear dissolved quickly into _wantneedgodNOW_.

"Come on," he whispered hoarsely, wrenching his face away from Drake's seeking mouth only long enough to get the words out.

He'd seen Drake naked before, of course, but never like this. Never balancing himself on his hands above Josh, his knees carving deep indents in the mattress on either side of Josh's thighs, his freckled skin flushed and just starting to shine with the first prickles of sweat. Never panting through clenched teeth as he rocked his hips forward and back, sliding himself along Josh's length and tossing his head like a racehorse to flip the bangs out of his eyes. Never making those kinds of sounds, either; harsh, guttural noises coming straight from the back of his throat. Josh grasped them both in one hand coated with raspberry-scented lotion, the other hand a claw tangled in the sheets and sharp, desperate tension twisting in his belly. He arched his back and flexed his fingers to ramp up the urgent slip-slide-press going between them, and when Drake screwed his eyes shut and started to moan the tension spiked violently out of Josh's control.

Later, in the dark, his chest soaking wet from the rough wiping down Drake had applied with a dripping washcloth, and with Drake snoring like a bear on the pillow next to his, Josh fought the urge to sleep. Instead, he stared at the picture of Oprah hanging at the foot of his bed and tried not to think about how much things had just changed.

* * *

When Josh woke up the next morning, the first thought that flashed through his head was to wonder how Megan had tricked him into eating dog shit. Again. His tongue felt three times its normal size and covered with fur to boot, and the second thought that flashed through his head was maybe Megan had actually tricked him into eating an entire dog.

It took an almighty struggle to work his eyes open, and once he finally managed it he regretted making the effort. The sunlight slanting in between the slats of the window shade wasn't doing his headache any favors. It felt like a blacksmith was pounding out an entire gross of horseshoes on the anvil that used to be his brain, and when he shifted and tried to sit up the roar of blood rushing through his ears sounded like a 747 powering up its engines. He reached for the spare pillow and clamped it over his eyes with his forearm, allowing himself a pitiful moan as he sank back under the covers. The pillow smelled different this morning, oddly familiar and somehow comforting, and it wasn't until he had taken a few deep breaths that he realized the fact that he could pick up the pillow in the first place meant Drake was gone.

_Shit._

Fuck. Oh, fuck. They'd actually done it. This was huge. This was so fucking huge, and so fucking stupid. Why had they gotten so drunk, and why had they been _so fucking stupid_?

Josh rolled onto his side and pulled the pillow over his head. Jesus, how was he ever going to face Drake again? How were the two of them ever going to face their parents again? And Megan? Josh's heart seized. Megan was sure to find out about it, and then their lives were over. _Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, so long, nice knowing you, you stupid fucking_ idiot. _Drake gets drunk and curious one night, and the next thing you know you're letting him blow a load all over your chest? What the fuck, Nichols? This kind of thing just doesn't happen in normal families._ Colin was totally right: the two of them were completely fucked up. Drake must have realized it, too. No wonder he'd decided to take off.

In the midst of his misery Josh thought briefly about trying to get up for a glass of water, but decided it would be easier to just lie there and die. Colin would find him when the smell got unbearable, and it would certainly solve all his problems.

"Hey."

Josh threw the pillow into the air with a shriek, instinctively pulling the sheet up over his bare chest as he scrambled away from the cool hand that had touched his arm. Drake jumped back with a screech of his own, spilling half the glass of water he held in one hand. His hair was wet and he smelled strongly of Josh's favorite peppermint soap. "Whoa, just take it easy, man," he said, hiking the monogrammed towel knotted around his waist a bit higher on his hip.

"Drake, you're still here!"

"Yeah, I know."

"I - I thought you were gone."

"No. I wasn't going to drive all the way back to San Diego last night. I was just taking a shower." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Here," he said, extending both hands, "I thought you might need these." He gave Josh a couple of aspirin along with what remained of the water. Josh accepted them gratefully and tossed the pills in his mouth. His hand trembled as he drank, and a thin trickle of water slipped down his chin.

"Thanks," he said, putting the glass on the bedside table.

"So," Drake said, drawing the syllable out so it lasted a full five seconds. "You okay?"

There were a million ways to answer that question, Josh thought. He could tell Drake how lousy his hangover felt and how he planned never to drink again for the rest of his life. He could tell Drake how mind-blowing the night before had been, and how terrifying. He could explain that he'd never meant for it to happen, and how scared he was about what things were going to be like between them now.

Or... he could talk about how he had just now realized how right it had all been, how much he wanted it to happen again, and how it made him ache to know it probably never would.

Drake reached out and gave Josh's shoulder a gentle squeeze just where it joined his neck. For a long, silent moment they looked at each other. Josh let the explanations die on his tongue. There was no need for explanations with Drake. There never had been.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm okay."

Drake gave his shoulder another squeeze. "Cool. Okay if I stay?" Josh nodded, smiling, and Drake stood up. "Okay if I... uh, get in there with you?" he said, and an ever-so-slight tinge of color rose on his cheeks. Josh nodded again, swallowing furtively against his nerves, and scooted backwards on the mattress to make room. The towel around Drake's waist barely had time to hit the floor in a crumpled heap before Drake had slipped under the sheet beside him.

His skin felt cool and smooth as he pressed up against Josh's side and rested his head on Josh's shoulder. "You still smell like the club, man," he murmured, nuzzling Josh's ear.

"I bet," Josh replied lazily, letting his eyes slip shut. He'd never have a birthday this awesome again. Never. He let his head fall back a bit to give Drake easier access to his neck, and Drake pressed the advantage immediately, tracing the column of Josh's throat with his lips. "I'll get a shower later."

"No rush," Drake said. He nipped lightly at a sensitive spot on Josh's neck that made him suck in a breath between his teeth. "We're just going to get dirty again, anyway."

Josh opened one eye. "Is that right?"

"Mmm hmm." Drake moved so his upper body was draped across Josh's chest and dipped his head for another kiss. He was already half-hard against Josh's hip. "Hey Josh," he said suddenly, grinning in a way Josh knew from experience could only mean trouble. "Remember that time you gave me a blowjob?"


End file.
